


Hidden Truth

by Ilyasviel



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Feelings, Other, Porn with Feelings, Surprises
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-29
Updated: 2017-07-29
Packaged: 2018-12-08 13:40:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 17,728
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11647701
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ilyasviel/pseuds/Ilyasviel
Summary: Cullen had developed some feelings, and they are eating him alive. Doubting, watching him pass near him and not knowing what their true feelings are... Dorian wants to help. Maker bless the sassy Tevinter and his mind!------I got this idea long ago, and when I started to write it, the idea changed drastically until I got this another work on hands xD https://archiveofourown.org/works/11147214, but the original one never left my mind. I'm not good writing smut... or descriptions hahahaha





	Hidden Truth

**Author's Note:**

> Oops, I did it again XD I started it like a short fic and ended with a 17k work >_< can't fight it T_T Thanks for giving it a chance!
> 
> As always, English is not my first language. I did my best to find and correct any typo I can find, but I'm sure I got more than one hiding on the text, so please, point them to me and I'll correct them to avoid any damage to your brains because of me destroying the English grammar hahahaha
> 
> No beta reader, all the errors are mine to bear ;)
> 
> Tell me what you think! I got this idea long ago but can't find the exact moment to put it in words ^__^

The setting sun is painting lines of orange light over the bookcase in his office. Cullen sits on his desk, quill in hand but not writing a single word. His brain is lost in more casual thoughts than the Inquisition trading routes or the guard rotations. He knows he has developed some kind of feelings for the Inquisitor, but… well, he always had preferred women, that is a new path for him. Besides of not knowing what his true feelings are, beyond some kind of attraction and lots of respect, he was with Dorian. Cullen can't hate the man for stealing the Inquisitor under his nose. He never said a word about his feelings. Besides, everyone believes he is straight, including himself, so if the Inquisitor is into men, is normal that he chose the beautiful Tevinter. Standing from the chair, Cullen moves to the window, leaning on his forearm and letting his gaze roam over the distant mountains. He needs to dwell on his mind, discover if what he thinks he feels is true or is just a misinterpreted worshipping. Returning to the chair, he picks up a clean slate, ready to write down the memories, like he always does.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

The first time he saw him, he was shackled, laying on a cot in a cell, the bald apostate trying to keep him alive. The ghostly mark on his hand flashes with an angry green light that makes him whimper and sob every time. Solas pushes everyone outside except the Seeker and Leliana, while he works in trying to save his life. Cullen thought at the moment that he felt some pity for him, knowing that Cassandra will want to skin him alive as soon as he regains consciousness.

 

The second time he was fighting like a wolf with a greatsword on his hands. Looking at him, with the skinny body and lean hips, you will never believe he can handle the sword with this skill and force. But he did it. His shoulder flexed and his arms delivered blow after blow against the pride demon that the Rift had gifted them. Each time he raised his hand against the green cut in the air, the demon screamed, and then he jumped over its back, giving him everything he can until they finally killed it. Cullen was on the upper floor, his soldiers had been bleeding and dying to take the man here, and he wants to see how it ends. When Max, that was his name, Max Trevelyan, raised his hand to face the Rift one last time, the exhaustion was written on his features. He grunted and thrashed until an explosion closed the big rift, and he passed out, right hand still grabbing his greatsword. Cassandra was beside him in a heartbeat, Cullen almost running to join them. Solas checked him, finding him alive but unresponsive. Cass helps Cullen to pick him from the ground, taking the sword from his hand with care and storing it behind her shield. Cullen feels the need to protect him when he carries him to Haven, the feeling of his lithe body was distracting. Cass joins him from time to time, talking sweetly to the sleeping man, praising him for his work. Once they reach the little village, Cullen let the healers take care of him, returning to the piles of work waiting for him.

 

The third time he saw him was around the so called war table. He wore a simple tunic with dark trousers, and without the armour, it is even more evident the apparent lack of muscles on him. Seeing him like this everyone will doubt those little arms can handle a greatsword almost bigger than him. His voice was strange too, but Cullen decided that he is still young, besides not every man can have a deep voice like him. His accent marks him as a free marcher, and after some time talking over the map, they learned that he was there as an envoy of his family, one of the most devoted lineages on the Free Marches. He doesn't remember what happened at the Temple but swears on his life to do whatever it takes to close the Breach.

 

They saw one another in the training area. The then called Herald of Andraste loved to train with the soldiers, helping Cullen's sergeants with the drills. The soldiers loved having him there, not only because he was a hero to them, but because he trained with them as he belonged there, not to the heavens where the few Mothers that remained with them after the proclamation of the Inquisition insisted that he belonged. Rylen was very happy to let the so called Herald train with his soldiers. Those moments and the peaceful time after, where the soldiers practice the movements he showed them turned to something almost ritualistic. Every morning, Max appeared at the edge of the tents area, talked with some of the soldiers and villagers, said hello to Cassandra near the dummies and exchanged a few practice blows with her. After that, he joined the drills, standing in line with the recruits, helping them with the position and basic movements. When the drill was over, and they moved to the hand to hand training, he always choose the few that had problems learning the movements of the day, and taught them with more patience than any of the sergeants will have had with them. And the best part of the day always was when the captains joined the ring, fighting between them to show the soldiers how to do it. Cullen usually ended as Max partner, enjoying the differences between their styles. Where he was control and strategy, Max was brute force and velocity. They tend to end fighting alone, the rest of the pairs ending soon than planned to let them more space and just enjoy the show. The fight always ended with one of them yielding, and the public usually clapping for them. 

 

One of those days, Max didn’t leave after the fray, walking beside Cullen, talking about how he joined the Inquisition and the work ahead of them. He can felt it, something was different this day, and when Max made a cute comment and gave him one of the sweetest smiles he never saw, Cullen was at a lost. He was more than happy when one of his runners came looking for him to check some supply reports with Rylen. 

 

Days later, they spent almost an hour talking about Cullen’s past; where he comes from, why he joined the Templars, how it was living in Kirkwall before the uprising… everything under the stars seems to pick up Max’s interest. 

 

One night, after a hard discussion on the war room regarding the choice of bringing in up the mages or the Templars, Cullen left the tavern just after ending his meal, moving to the wall overlooking the lake. He was so lost in thoughts that he didn’t listen to the steps approaching him until a soft cough made him jump. Max was leaning against the outer wall, near the stairs, waiting for his response to move closer or not. “Good night, Commander. Mind if I join you?”

 

Cullen shrugged, changing his pose to lean against the wall too, the scabbard of his sword clinking against the stone. “I can’t say no to the Herald of Andraste.”

 

He saw Max clearly deflating, his shoulders falling at his words. With a sigh, he turned back and went down the stairs. “Sorry for disturbing you, Commander. I will not force you to bear my company.”

 

His brain was slow to decipher his words, and for when he reacted, Max was already walking across the yard to his room. ‘Shit! It looks like I didn’t forget how to be an asshole.”

 

Max left Haven the next morning, no more than some pleasantries exchanged before his departure. They will travel to Redcliffe to contact the rebel mages, against Cullen's counsel. It sounded like a trap, but the Herald didn’t like the Templar's behaviour on Val Royeaux. A week later, they returned with a new member, a Tevinter Altus claiming to be a former student of the Magister who has made a pact with Fiona. No one liked the man, Cullen itself had to intercede in more than one brawl against him. Even with his peacock attitude, he looked genuinely interested in closing the Breach and helping the Inquisition, alleging that the new sect that has appeared in Tevinter was like cancer for his homeland. Cullen tried to ignore the flirty remarks the mage tended to make to Max, and how the Herald blushed and smiled to every one of his comments. The work was even difficult when the mage decided to join them on the training sessions, in his own words, the show is so good to be missed, and the Herald looks hotter after some exercise. Something about gasping noises and blushed skins made even Rylen smile, but Cullen didn’t find it amusing, but he can decide the exact reason for his dislike then.

 

A couple of days later, the Herald and his group return to Redcliffe, together with a squad of Leliana’s men and Dorian. Three days later, a raven brings them news of the attack. It was successful, but not eventful. The Herald has been lost to them for almost half a day, Cassandra, Varric and Solas guarding Alexius while he boasted about how the Herald has been lost in time never to come back. At last, the Herald returns, with Dorian’s help, and they arrest Alexius, who was on his way to Haven, together with the rest of the rebel mages who wanted to join the Inquisition. 

 

Max looked tired when the group returned to the village. The entourage talked happily about the successful mission and the prospect of closing the Breach now that the mages had joined them, but the Herald just walked beside Dorian, the pair of them exchanging knowing looks from time to time. Cullen wanted to talk to him, but he just shook his head and walked directly to the Chantry, where the war room awaits. Once the group of counsellors, Cassandra, Dorian and him were closed inside, the mage and the Herald started to relate their adventure in a dark and frightening future. Max can’t look to Cullen or Leliana, just saying that he found them in that future and that he will fight until his last breath to avoid it. Together, they start to plan the last march to the Temple of Ashes, as soon as the mages are ready to do it, and Josephine began to think in how to contact the Empress of Orlais to talk about the threat against her life. 

 

Time passes differently while in pressure. Cullen can't remember the exact time he spent preparing the last march, training the mages with the few Templars that had joined the Inquisition, just in case. Max remained distant, don't look directly into his eyes since their mission on Redcliffe. 

 

The marked day arrived, the full army moving to the Temple of Ashes, giving the Herald the backup he needed. During the trip, Dorian never left Max’s side, and Cassandra joined them from time to time, even she has fallen under the mage spell. Cullen was still trying to decide if he liked the man or despised him. In the end, nothing of this mattered. Max did the unthinkable, he closed the Breach, and even knowing that is not entirely sealed, the village erupted in a roaring party.  For when the full force arrives at Haven, the party is already on fire. Max joined them for a while, moving away as soon as possible. Dorian and Cassandra exchanged a look, something that Cullen didn't think possible, before Cass stood and followed him into the darkness. 

 

What happened next will engrave itself on everyone memories. The attack of the Red Templars, the twisted Darkspawn called Corypheus leading them, together with an old acquaintance of Cullen. After a hard battle, the few survivors have rushed away from the village, using a dark and secret path, while Max attracted the attention of the tainted Templars and the archdemon following Corypheus. Cullen has to look him go, forced to guide the soldiers and villagers to safety while Max risked his life only to give them a way to escape. 

 

The feeling was hard on Cullen's heart. The hours passed until he established a camp and can organise a rescue team led by him and Cassandra, the longer ones of his life. They walked across what was once Haven, now entirely covered with tons and tons of white snow. The blizzard was a bad one, Cullen forced to send part of the team back when the soldiers can't stand against the freezing wind. At last only he,  Cassandra and Rylen remain, taking turns to lead the way, opening a path in the snow for the rest.

 

Another hour passed and they were close the area where the trebuchets were stationed. Rylen was the first to see him, the soft green light of the Anchor floating between the falling snow. Cullen broke the formation to run straight to him, catching him just when he collapsed. He will always remember his words. ‘I know you will find me.’ His voice was softer than ever, his body freezing and his lips tinted with a bluish colour. Cullen takes off his coat, putting it on around his shoulder before picking him up from the snow, carrying him all the way to the camp. His little hands clasped his armour like a life saver, the soft shivers running across his body travelling to Cullen's through his hands. He felt the necessity to protect him but didn't know why. 

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Cullen puts the quill down, rereading his words, sighing softly at the end. ‘It looks like I love to suffer, falling for someone who is already taken.’ He stands, moving the parchment closer to the candles and letting the flame kiss it, letting it fall to the stone floor where it starts to burn. Looking through the windows, he sees the moons starting to brighten the night, and having an extreme need of some booze to calm his mind, and he decided to make a quick visit to the tavern.

 

The ambient inside it is as noisy as ever, and Cullen starts to regret his decision almost immediately. He moves directly to the counter, planning to ask Cabot for a bottle of venom he will enjoy in the silence of his tower. He ordered whisky, letting his gaze roam the crowd while he waits for the dwarf to return. In Bull’s corner, the Chargers are enjoying themselves, as always, boasting and singing. What Cullen didn't expect is to find Max sitting on Dorian’s lap, nursing a beer mug while joining Krem in a song. Just before Cabot gives him the bottle, Max turned his gaze to him, like he was feeling being observed. His smile turns sad when he sees him, but beckons to him anyway, to which Cullen shakes his head, picking up the bottle before leaving the tavern in a rush. He is securely barred inside his tower, not more than five minutes later, when a knock on a door distracts him. A runner shows there, a letter in his hand. “From Lord Pavus, Commander.”

 

Cullen gives him his thanks before closing the door again, sitting on the table and taking a long gulp of the whiskey before opening the letter. 

 

“Commander,

 

We need to have a chat. Can I grace your time with my presence tomorrow morning? We can talk over a chessboard in the gardens. I know you have one beautiful set laying around your office. 

 

I will be waiting for you, don't let me there to root, Mother Giselle is not the better company for the ones like me.

 

Dorian.”

 

Cullen starts to panic as soon as he ends the letter. What in the Void will want him to talk about? Had he seen how he looks to his boyfriend? Shit, Cullen is starting to sweat only thinking about he dreading conversation. He drinks all the bottle, knowing that he will need the help of the alcohol to sleep tonight. He remembers pieces of the rest of the night, including how he almost fall from the ladder while going to bed. 

 

The sound of the morning drill wakes him. He never overslept, and he feels awful for doing it. Washing his face quickly, he puts on his clothes and armour before going down to the yard. Rylen has taken care of the morning training, and Cullen moves closer to him with a sorry excuse in his tongue when the captain just nods to him. “Good morning, Commander. Is good to see you catching some extra sleep from time to time.”

 

“Yeah. Thanks, I suppose. How are the recruits behaving today?”

 

Rylen signals the training area, where a couple of dozens of soldiers are clashing their weapons in perfect unison. “Good. The loot seems to have taken your teachings seriously at last.”

 

Cullen just nods approvingly, crossing his arms to look the rest of the exercise, correcting whatever he sees out of place, ignoring as best as he can Rylen snort each time he makes it. When the drill ends, the soldiers were dismissed, and the captain walked with the Commander to the battlements. “We miss the Inquisitor. He didn't join the training since we left Haven. The recruits will love to have him here. The legend of the mighty Inquisitor training with the new blood is still alive in the barracks.”

 

Leaning against the wall, Cullen looks to the Inquisitor’s tower. “I'll try to talk with him, but he doesn't have any time to spare since Haven.”

 

The older man jumps to sit on the railway, “The pair of you have so much in common is almost disgusting.” Years of seeing one another between Kirkwall and Oswick gives Rylen the power to speak his mind to Cullen. “The both of you need to take some free time, he is even thinner than before, and you look like shit almost every morning. It will be good if you can take the time to be just Cullen once in a while.”

 

Returning his gaze to the captain, Cullen can only smile at him. “I'll sleep when I'm dead, ser. You know how it is, the mountain of work we have on our desk every single day. We can't ask the crazy darkspawn to give us a break.”

 

Crossing his arms, Rylen didn't let the Commander intimidate him. “No, but you can ask for help. I'm sure someone can take care of your paperwork for a couple of days, and the same can be said for the Inquisitor.” Rylen sighs, passing a hand over his dark hair. “Tell me, Cullen. How many reasons did you have to survive this war besides the auto imposed responsibility? One can't fight a battle like this without having something worth the fight.”

 

The Commander gaze falls to the floor, hand moving to the hilt of his sword, searching for an answer inside his brain, and knowing that he didn't have any to give. The sound of the bell tower marking the hour give him the escape route he needed. “Sorry, Rylen. I have an appointment. Thanks for the chat.”

 

Rylen jumps from the wall, following him down the stairs. “You know where to find me. Just think about it, will you?”

 

They parted ways once they reach the courtyard. Cullen starts to climb the stairs to his tower, ignoring deliberately the pile of reports lying on his desk that he finds when he enters his office. Standing in front of the bookcase, he picks up the chess set Max gifted him with during one of their first weeks at Haven, after a visit to the Hinterlands. Walking with haste, he crosses the pass way that leads to the rotunda, waving to Solas on his way across it. The mage ignores him while he paints something in one of the walls, as always. Outside the door, Varric is sitting on his improvised desk, writing something while taking looks across the room to spy on the Orlesian’s nobles roaming the space. They exchange a familiar greeting, the nicknames they use while talking about the others are like names to them. No one stops him on his way to the garden, thanks to the Maker. The peace outside after the intruding murmur of the main hall is like a balsam for his mind. Nodding respectfully to the Chantry mothers and sisters that seem to live here, he walks directly to the gazebo at the far end of the garden. Dorian is already here, sitting in a chair and trying to ignore a pestering Mother Giselle who is trying to talk to him. When the mage sees the Commander approaching, he closes his book, turning to face Mother Giselle. “I'm sorry. My appointment is already here, or will you want to tell me that I will taint his soul too with my mere existence?”

 

With a huff, the mother leaves them, giving Cullen a nod while passing beside him. “They still pester you?”

 

Dorian stands and clasps hands with Cullen. “Don't worry yourself, Commander. I'm getting used to it. And she at least will never use his hands against me.”

 

They seat while Cullen starts to get the board ready. “We talked about it. You must talk with me whenever something like the last time occurs.”

 

Dorian sits back, crossing a leg over the other, “Sure thing, but at least for now, the people has stopped spitting on my shoes, that’s an improvement. Don’t worry about me. I know what I’m getting into when I joined the Inquisition. I always will be the spy, the traitor waiting for the perfect moment to strike or the one who will pervert the Herald of Andraste. It didn’t make me lose a single minute of my sleeping time.”

 

They start to play, bantering about the Inquisition, talking about Cullen’s family and Dorian’s years at the circles of Tevinter. When they are in the middle of the second game, Cullen leans back, taking a look around, happy to find them lonely enough. “About your note… you said you needed to talk to me about something?”

 

Dorian chuckles softly while moving one of his towers to eat a bishop. “Not one to wait for the perfect moment, aren’t you? Fine, let's have the chat I promised.” Interlacing his fingers in front of his face, Dorian leans back on the chair. “Well, my dear Commander, I’m not blind, and I saw you looking to the Inquisitor when he is not aware of it.”

 

The Commander blushes deeply but tries to put some steel in his voice when answering him. “I hope is not causing you any conflict. I will never approach him in that way.”

 

Dorian just laugh to him, “Don’t take me wrong, I do the same almost all the time. What I wanted to tell you is, in fact, a very good news for you. We are not really together. I’m helping him to stop the nobles to try to catch his attention. If they think that he is engaged to someone as marvellous as me, they leave him be, don’t disturb the few moments of peace he had.” Straightening again to move a knight, Dorian lowers his voice even more, “What I’m trying to say is, what are your real feelings for him, Commander? Because the Inquisitor is very dear to me, and I don’t let you come close to him if you only have a passion or a worshipping crush.”

 

The rush of blood to his face leaves him lighthearted. Weren't they together? And all the touches, the laughs, the looks, everything was a farce? Is why Max looks sad when he finds them together? Dorian is still looking into his eyes, searching for an answer. After a minute of deliberate stillness on the Commander side, the blonde man shifts his positions and moves closer to the table. “I've never been a man who was lead by petty passions, Dorian. Besides, my feelings will be just another charge to add to his shoulders. Is not something I'm planning to let it happen. He has enough on his plate without having to reject his Commander.”

 

Dorian burst in laughs, surprising Cullen and drawing the attention of the people around the garden. Some time and a cute blush on the Commander’s face later, Dorian catches his breath, at last, changing the laugh for a soft giggling. “My oh my, Commander. You two really need to talk with one another. I will be a bad friend because I promised to maintain the secret, but I'm getting old waiting for any of you to make a move. My dear Commander, you are not the first to tell me that words, if you know what I mean.” The mage winks to him before returning his attention to the board, making a bold move and waiting for Cullen's response.

 

The Commander’s brain is frozen, nothing of his surroundings enters his mind. The meaning of Dorian's words… it can't be what he thinks he meant, no? No way someone like Max will ever fall for a damaged man like him. He isn't worth even of his friendship, but he stored it like a precious gift. Dorian must be playing with him, wanting to see how far he will fall before crashing against the true, right? The sound of Dorian's voice returns him to the present. “Commander, I can hear the gears in your brain from here. Stop thinking, stubborn man! I'm not toying with you. I'm not planning to crush your hopes and get him for myself. I will never admit that I said those words aloud, I consider the both of you my closest friends. What can I gain hurting you or him?”

 

Cullen starts to rub his neck with a hand, as he always does when nervous. “It's just-- Maker, it is just hard to believe, Dorian.”

 

The mage leans closer to the table, leaning an elbow on his leg. “Why? Let me tell you something. You are gentle and intelligent, a good conversationalist and a better Commander, and to add to all of it, you are very easy to the eye. I must admit that I developed some kind of crush on you back in Haven, you being the knight in shining armour who come to my rescue every time I need it. And let me tell you that my tastes are more than exquisite.”

 

Blushing even more, Cullen starts to mumble his thanks, avoiding to look at him. When the Commander’s mind starts to work again, he tries to return his attention to the board, making a perfect move countering the one Dorian did. “And now that you have told me, what do you think I will do with this info? Kneel in front of him and confess my feelings?”

 

The chuckle from the mage makes Cullen raise his head to look at him. “Maker's breath, that will be a sight to behold! But no, I only want that you think about it. The pair of you work hard enough to save Thedas, can you work a bit to save a corner for yourselves?”

 

“I don-- I don't know, Dorian. I never felt this way for a man, ever. And being a Templar, I never got the chance to know love or even wanting to know it.”

 

Dorian sits back, a mischievous grin on his face. “Oh, don't worry about it, Commander. Our dear Max can surprise you, and you can learn about love together.” After a moment of silence, Dorian leans his chin on a hand, elbow resting on the armrest. “Let me try to be serious about this for a moment, Cullen.” It does not get unnoticed for the Commander that is the first time since they know each other that Dorian calls him by his first name. “What is your heart screaming to you to do?”

 

“To give it a try. But I don't know how.”

 

Dorian nods approvingly, “Will you let me help you with that? I know I can think of something that can work for the both of you.” When Cullen starts to stutter again, Dorian raises a hand to stop him. “Cullen, believe me, you don't have nothing to lose and a lot to win. Even if Max decides to put you down, I can tell you, from firsthand experience, that you will remain friends and nothing will change between you.”

 

Realisation breaks Cullen’ stupor, “He rejected you? Ok, I'm screwed even before I tried.”

 

Laughing hard again, Dorian shakes his head. “There are two reasons for his rejection, my friend, and I'm talking with one of them right now, so stop your babbling and say yes.”

 

His answer comes as a whisper, so low that can't be called a real word, but Dorian catches it, smiling softly at him. “Good. I will adjourn our match, then, Commander. I have a lot of plans to do!”

 

And with a last clap on Cullen's shoulder, Dorian leaves the gazebo, followed by the gazes of the Chantry sisters. Silence, loneliness and time to think about it, the idea starts to sound awful. Images of an offended Max filling his mind, thinking about how the rejection will taste once served. With a sigh, Cullen begins to store back the pieces on the box, picking up the board and returning to his tower at a slow pace. His logical mind is already working in a way to take off the sting venom of this love from his body once the Inquisitor rejects him. He was so lost in himself that he almost passes beside Max without noticing him. Luckily for him, Rylen is there and stops him in his tracks. “Commander! Glad to see you having some fun at last, and our Inquisitor is back to the ring. The day is improving by the hour!”

 

The roll of his eyes in answer enough to Rylen, and the man got the guts to burst in laughs at him. Cullen leans a hand on his hip, “Captain, you have more free time that I thought if you can lose it pestering your Commander in the middle of the day.”

 

“You have lost the game or what, Commander?” Before the other man can answer him, Rylen steals the chess board from his hands, pushing him inside the ring, startling Max with his sudden apparition. “Get some training, Commander. You are starting to get soft in the edges, if you know what I mean.” With a wink, Rylen starts to climb the stairs to Cullen's tower while Max recovers his breath looking at him with an arched brow. 

 

Cullen takes a deep breath, starting to take off his coat and leaning it on the fence of the ring. “Well Inquisitor, someone has decided that I need to train for a while today. Do you mind if I join you?”

 

The welcoming smile of Max is so sweet that Cullen almost didn't hear his answer. “I missed our sessions, Commander. No one handles the shield like you in the Order.”

 

Blushing a bit at the compliment, Cullen picks a training sword and shield from the ground, while Max stretches his back before raising the wooden greatsword. “Let’s see how rusted I am after so many days spent handling a quill instead of a sword.”

 

Raising the sword in front of his face, Cullen salutes Max, and he answers bowing slightly before moving to a fighting stance. They circled one another for a while, the hard sun of midday heating them inside their armours. After a minute seizing one another, Max jumps forward, drawing a big arch with his weapon. Cullen, knowing how hard he can hit with this movement, lays quickly on a knee and raises his shield, stopping the sword. The impact makes his arm tremble, but he recovers quickly and pushes him aside with a swift movement of his shield. While Max tries to recover his equilibrium, Cullen launches an attack on his flank. The Inquisitor sees it coming, and rolls to one side to avoid it. The two of them stand, facing one another with a challenging grin on their faces. After some walking around again, Cullen charges against him, shield resting on his shoulder to push with more force. Max raises the weapon, putting it in front of him and fixing the blade in place with a hand behind it. The sound of the weapons colliding is so loud that some of the birds around the Keep panic and flew from the fortress. Max is resisting the attack, but his boots don’t have enough traction to resist the inertia of it, and he is pushed back a couple of feets. Once they stop, he kicks Cullen’s shield, making him take a step back and fight to maintain the coverture on his upper body. With an agility born of practice, Max handles the sword with his two hands in an inverted position and turns on his heels to gain inertia. Before doing the complete turn, he flexes his legs and jumps, falling against Cullen’s shield with enough force to shatter the wood, hitting hard his shoulder when the sword goes through it. As soon as he feels his weapon contacting directly to Cullen’s body, he let the hilt go. The Commander is already on his knees, practice sword is forgotten beside him, the remains of the shield on the ground in front of him. Max runs to kneel with him, already searching for any wound. “Maker, Cullen! I’m so sorry! Do you need medical attention? We can call Solas or Vivienne if you don’t want to visit the chirurgeons.”

 

The Commander is gritting his teeth. The hit has been a rough one, but he had worse in the past, he knew nothing is broken, but he will have a bruise to remember the fight for a couple of weeks. “Don’t trouble yourself, Inquisitor. I’m fine. My armour took part of the impact.”

 

“Bullshit! I know how hard I can hit, and I’m sure that your shoulder will be sore as the Void at the end of the day.” Passing a hand over his face, Max shakes his head and starts to position himself on Cullen’s undamaged side, putting his arm around his back and helping him to stand. “At least let me help you to return to your tower and treat your wound.”

 

He is already walking, forcing Cullen to follow him, stopping near the fence only to pick up his coat,  while the Commander tries to dissuade him. “Is not necessary, Inquisitor. I’m fine. I can walk by myself and take care of it without disturbing your free time. It’s been a while since you got some time for yourself.”

 

“Same can be said of you, Commander.” They have reached the stairs and Cullen grunts when he tries to use his arm to help him to climb them. “Besides,” Max's voice lowers to a whisper, only for him to hear it. “I prefer to spend my time with you that roaming alone in my room, hiding in my quarters of the unwanted attention.”

 

The hand circling Cullen's waist fixes itself in his belt, taking from his legs almost half of the weight they usually support. The force that this tiny man always shows never ceases to amaze the Commander. 

 

Once they reach the battlements, Max let him go slightly, waiting to see how he will answer him and giving him the chance to run away if it is what he wants. Cullen sighs, knowing that he is being selfish. If he only wants to be friends, so be it, he will not take it from him because he had doubts himself. “Come in, then. You can hide in my office. We can play chess, or you can test your patience trying to teach me how to play Wicked Grace.”

 

Another breathtaking smile is his answer, and Cullen moves his gaze to the landscape, trying to hide the soft blush he knows will be showing on his face. Max continues walking to the tower, stopping briefly in front of the door to open it and help Cullen to enter into his office. Once inside, Max brings him to the desk, leaning him against it and leaving the coat on the chair. “I’m gonna take off your armour. We will need some elfroot poultice, did you have any here?”

 

His deft fingers are already working on the closings of his chest plate, and Cullen feels himself getting hotter by the minute. “Yeah, upstairs, on my bedroom. The first drawer of the cabinet near the bed.”

 

With a nod, Max takes a step back. “I’ll go and fetch it. You can work on the rest or I can continue when I’m back.”

 

Cullen’s hand is moving to the clasps so quickly that Max chuckles to him before starting to go to the ladder, climbing it with swift movements. The chest plate falls to the ground, the sound echoing inside the closed room. The back piece hits the desk, making some reports fall to the floor. A resigned sigh leaves the Commander. He will take care of it later when his mind is not trying to avoid the image of a smiling Max undoing his armour. He starts to work on the pauldron of his wounded shoulder, grunting softly when he brushes the damaged muscle slightly. Before he can put it down, Max has returned, a little jar and some bandages on his hands and a worried frown on his face. “I’m so sorry, Cullen. It has been a while since I trained with someone and it seems I forgot how to do it with a measured force.” His left-hand takes off the pauldron from Cullen’s fingers, putting it on the desk together with the items he was carrying. He starts to work on the opposite shoulder while the Commander unclasps the vambrace. 

 

When the last piece of his upper armour is on the table, Max goes down to recover the chest plate, adding it to the collection of metal over the desk. “Let’s see how much damage I did to the Commander of the Inquisition forces." Long fingers start to take off the tunic from the prison of his belt, and Cullen tries to calm himself breathing slowly. The idea didn’t work very well when the distinctive scent of Max fills his nostrils, a perfect mix of sweet vanilla and leather and sharpening oils. He closes his eyes, trying to think of anything except the man undressing him. A hand rest on his lower back, pinning the tunic away from the belt. “Cullen, I need some help with that. Can you raise your arm? I’ll take off the unwounded side first.” Without opening his eyes, Cullen nods, moving up his right arm and feeling Max hands running over it while taking off the tunic from his arm and head. Once done, he lowers the arm and moves to the wounded shoulder, peeling off the shirt with extra care of not touching or moving the arm. Leaving the shirt on the chair, Cullen feels him positioning himself at his side, fingers softer than he imagined caressing the damaged skin. “Maker’s breath, Cullen. This is going to hurt you for a long time. Are you sure you don’t want to ask Solas or Vivienne to treat it?”

 

Cullen risks a look over his shoulder, seeing the telltale mark of the sword starting to swell his skin. “Yes, and don’t worry about it, I endured worse during my training days. At least now I have the experience to avoid movements that can remind me of the damage.”

 

Sighing sadly, Max recovers the jar from the desk and opens the cork, the strong smell of elfroot filling the room. Taking a good share on his fingers, he starts to heat the poultice on his hands before starting to massage the damaged area with all the care he can. “If your words aimed to calm my guilty mind, I can assure you that they are not working very well.” 

 

Just when Cullen is ready to answer him, the door in front of him opens without any knock on it. Dorian's hand remains at the knob for a couple of seconds, while the grin on his face starts to change to a complete and devilish smile. “Well well, what have we here?”

 

Max’s hands didn’t relent on his work, taking a quick look over his shoulder to the newcomer. “Oh, hello, Dorian. I hurt him while training and I’m trying to make some amends. Don’t want to lose my favourite Commander because of a relentless move on my part.”

 

Dorian steps inside the room and closes the door behind him. Leaning against the wall and closing his arms, the mage just stares at them, a wicked frown on his face. “My oh my, Inquisitor, what have you done to have him shirtless under your hands? But don’t mind me, I will stand here and just enjoy the show.”

 

Cullen and Max blush simultaneously, making Dorian giggle even more. Max stops his hands, leaving them over the bruise to apply some heat to it. The poultice works better this way, and they know it. Looking over his shoulder, Max sticks his tongue to Dorian, “You are insufferable, Dori.”

 

“I hate when you use that voice to chastise me, Maxi.” He steps away from the wall, moving to the door that leads to the battlements near the tavern. “Besides, my patience is wearing thin with you two running in circles around one another.” When Max looks at him with a surprised look, he just closes his hand around the knob. “I talked to him this morning and explained our arrangement. Now is up to you two to try and take your heads from your asses and talk to one another. I have an appointment with Bull. See you later.”

 

He closes the door behind him before any of the other two can react. Max was the first to move, returning his full attention to the bruise in front of him. Cullen moves his free hand to scratch on his neck. Turning to look at him, the Commander finds Max with a sad frown, looking down, but his hands remain delicately caressing the shoulder, thumbs extending the poultice in soft circles. “Are you alright? We don’t need to talk about anything. If you help me to put aside the armour pieces, we can play a game of chess. The board is on the desk.”

 

With a sigh, Max picks up the jar again, taking another share of poultice and repeating the process, starting to bandage the wound before the body absorbs all the cream. “We can try, but I believe that my mind will be distracted and I will not be a very good partner.”

 

Max is still avoiding to look at him, eyes focused on his boots or in a point behind him. Cullen wraps a hand around his fingers, forcing him to look at him. “Max, I’m serious. We don’t need to talk about anything. I’m happy just being your friend.”

 

A few seconds pass and Max remain looking to something over his shoulder. At last, he reacts, leaning his forehead on his unwounded shoulder. “But I’m not, I want more, but I can--” Max sigh is so sad that Cullen feels the urge to wrap an arm around him, but resist it, aiming for his hand instead. “I’m not what you think, and I’m not sure how to explain myself or even if you will still like me when you know the truth.”

 

Pushing him closer, Cullen finally wraps an arm around his shoulder, feeling a soft shiver run across his body. “You know about the errors in my past, my inner war and my sins, and still you want me. Do you really think that anything you told me about yourself will make me stop wanting to be with you?” Something that remembers him of a sob reaches his ears when Max wraps his slender arms around his chest. “I never felt this way for anyone, and I never--” He whimpers softly when he forces his damaged arm to raise and lean his hand on Max’s back. “I never felt attracted to men before. Everything is new and scary, but…” He takes a deep breath before he continues talking, doing it in soft whispers, only for Max’s ears. “I’m ready to give it a try if you want me.”

 

A sad laugh leaves Max, making Cullen tense. After a few seconds of silence, the Inquisitor whispers to him, voice muffled against his chest. “Mine is a secret that can bury all our hard work in the mud, dragging my family with it. I have to live with the decisions of my past. This never bothered me, until now.” Taking a step back, he leans a hand on Cullen's cheek. “I want to tell you, but I can't make this decision alone. Have dinner with me tonight. I will talk with Leliana and Cassandra about it.”

 

Closing his eyes, Cullen let himself enjoy the touch for a moment, before opening them again and bore his gaze on his. “If it is what you want, I will be there. But you know that the last thing I want is being a burden to the Order. If telling me the secret will endanger our work…” He covers Max’s hand with his. “I can wait. For you, I can. Knowing that you want me, even knowing how damaged I am, is enough for me.”

 

Cullen can hear his breath get caught in his chest, and feel the little shiver running his body. “Can't wait for dinner time.” He recovers his hand and walks directly to the door that Dorian has used to leave. Before leaving the tower, Max turns to face the Commander. “Until later, Cullen.” The Inquisitor mask is in place again, but the little wave he gives him before leaving is even sweeter this way, knowing that is only for him. 

 

When the door closes, Cullen moves to sit on the desk. When he tries to recover the reports from the floor, the pain on his shoulder makes him hiss. ‘Shit. Is worse than I thought. Maybe is not a bad idea to pay a visit to the First Enchanter.’ He stands, panting a bit when he fights to put back the tunic. Moving to the west door, he orders a soldier to ask Vivienne for her help, if she is available, and if she isn't, to ask it the same to Solas. With that done, he returns to the desk, moving the armour pieces slowly to the chaise longue on the corner. Sitting back, he shifts until he finds a position that will not make him hiss with every movement, and starts to work, waiting for the help to come.

 

An hour later, a knock at his door precedes Solas. “Good evening, Commander. Your runner said you need my help.”

 

Cullen stands, the pain making him grunt. “Thanks for coming by, Solas. I got a little accident in training this morning, and it seems is worse than I thought initially. I know is not a usual request, but can you help me to fix it? The Inquisitor has already treated the wound, but the elfroot poultice isn't even masking the pain.”

 

After a couple of seconds, the elf moves closer. “Of course. But are you sure of it? I know you are not fond of magic.” Cullen just nods and starts to take off the tunic, panting from the effort of not screaming every time he moves his shoulder. Solas closes the distance and helps him to free the damaged arm from the tunic. Making him sit, Solas starts to undo the bandages, humming when he touches the darkening bruise under it. “I can help you, Commander. And I must add that I'm happy you asked because I can feel the fissures on your muscles and tendons. I will ask again, are you sure? You will feel my magic in all your body, and I will heal minor injuries and ease pains in all your body, not only in the shoulder.”

 

Taking a deep breath, Cullen fixes his gaze on Solas’ eyes. “I'm sure. I'll only ask that you don't seek inside of me for other damages, the ones I carry are mine to deal with them, my burden.”

 

Tilting his head, Solas just raises a brow. “As you wish, Commander. I will begin, it will not take long, and you will feel the benefits almost immediately.”

 

Soft green light surrounds his hands, rays of light moving behind his eyes. The heat of his fingers starts to penetrate his shoulder. As he has warned, the pain begins to recede in a couple of seconds. In fact, Cullen can feel the perpetual headache he lives with recede too. His sore muscles relaxing and the stiffness of his neck loosening. Solas moves his hands, one to his shoulder blade and the other resting flat against the bruise. The heat increases and Cullen can swear that he feels like someone is stitching him from the inside. 

 

After a couple of minutes, the glow dissipates, and Solas takes a step back. “How are you feeling, Commander?”

 

Testing the shoulder, Cullen raises his brows in surprise. “Maker, Solas! I can't even feel a shadow of the pain! Thank you, and sorry for disturbing you with this kind of request.”

 

Solas returns to the door, “Don't worry, Commander. Glad to help you and see how well are you behaving around magic. But next time, tell our dear Inquisitor to use a dummy instead of you.” He leaves the tower with a half bow, returning to his spot in the rotunda, surely he has some new objects to examine or more walls to cover in his cryptic paints.

 

Standing from the chair, Cullen puts back the tunic, taking a look at the sky through the little window to see the hour. The sun is already moving to the west, time flying away from his hands without him noticing it. With a sigh, he walks to the ladder, climbing it and reaching his room, marvelling with the healing capacities of the apostate. He makes him think of Anders, the mage who died in the hands of his boyfriend when he destroyed the Chantry in Kirkwall. And thinking about them he can only remember Amell, Hawke’s cousin, and her soft hands when he treated his wounds after some harsh training. Everything looks like it happened in another life, not mere years ago. Shaking his hands to break the melancholy, Cullen moves to his trunk, picking a clean blue tunic and soft leather breeches. Searching a bit more, he recovers a pair of clean socks and underwear, together with the toiletry bag. When all the items are in his hands, he picks a satchel from the truck and put the clothes inside, going down the ladder with it. A runner is knocking at the door when he reaches the ground level. When he makes him enter, he brings a tray with some food and a letter from Leliana. Dismissing the runner, Cullen returns to the desk, sitting on the chair and munching some of the food before deciding to open the message. 

 

‘Commander,

 

I had a little chat with our Inquisitor. He asked for my permission to share with you our most dangerous secret. After talking to him about it, we decided to tell you the full story. I’m very sorry for having maintained you in the dark about all of this. 

 

I cleared your schedule and his for the rest of the day. Rest a bit, take a bath, try to relax and visit him with an open mind. I hope you will understand our secrecy once you knew what is at stake.

 

Don’t eat very much, Josie is ordering a real feast for you two.

 

Have fun,

Leliana.’

 

The situation is starting to get on his nerves. It seems that whatever the Inquisitor wants to share with him is a dark mystery, known only by a handful of persons. But knowing that he, the Commander of the forces, has been kept away from it when even Dorian seems to know it… it hurts. But he can’t decide until he knows for sure what the secret is. Ending with half of his meal, he puts the tray aside and recovers the reports, using the time he has left to get a head start on work. 

 

A couple of hours later, no one has come to disturb him, and Cullen has ended with the pile of reports on his desk, for the first time in months. Stretching lazily, he stands and recovers the bag from near the door, leaving his tower in the baths direction. Cassandra is at her usual spot near the forge, sitting under a tree, reading a book. When he nears the building to enters to the passage that leads to the bathrooms, Cassandra calls him. 

 

“Commander! Take a sit with me for a moment.”

 

Knowing that he will be receiving another lecture, he sighs and sits beside her, resting the bag on his legs. “Good evening, Cass.”

 

She closes her book and turns a bit to face him better, lowering her voice. “I talked with the Inquisitor. About time you will be informed of the real situation, my friend. I didn’t like keeping you in the dark. I only pray to the Maker that you will not change your mind when you know it.”

 

Cullen starts to fidget nervously with the strap of the bag, “I’m starting to feel nervous. Leliana warned me, you too, even Dorian. Max looked terrified to tell me, I saw him facing an archdemon without batting an eyelid, but this topic makes him look scared.”

 

Cassandra moves a hand to his shoulder, clasping it. “You will see his reasons soon enough. It is a delicate topic, but I truly believe that once you know it, you will feel better about yourself and the situation.”

 

“I hope so, Cass. Now if you excuse me, I want to take a long bath before my meeting with Max. For the first time in months, I have the spare time to do it, and my mind will be grateful for the break from my routine.” He raises himself from the ground, enjoying the feeling of moving without any kind of pain, thanks to Solas' treatment. 

 

Cassandra pats his knee, returning her attention to the book on her hands. “I will seek for you tomorrow, and we can talk about it. Enjoy your day, Cullen.”

 

The Commander gives her a half bow before turning back to face the door to the bathrooms. It was one of those little marvels that dotted the Keep, an old relic from the past that is still working. A month ago, while the teams worked on cleaning the paths to the prison, they discovered another door on the first floor of the basement. When they opened it, what they found had left all the Keep in awe. A big room, dug directly into the hard rock of the mountain, creating an enormous chamber, heated with magical runes. The water flowed from the cascade thanks to a complex piping system. After some cleaning and a thorough examination by the mages of the Inquisition, the bathrooms were opened for use. They have a schedule, but the inner circle had a couple of private rooms available for them all day. When Cullen opens the door to the chamber, the steam clouds his vision for a couple of seconds. Taking a step inside, he closes the door behind him, already feeling himself relax thanks to the heat and the healing herbs the healers put on the braziers. The room is blessedly empty, and Cullen moves to the right, knowing exactly where he wants to go. The two private bathrooms lay under the stairs. A big wooden door separates the public area from the private one. Once inside, Cullen sees that he is not the only occupant of the bathroom. He recognises the boots, Max is there, and by the pair beside it, Dorian too. They are sharing the bath. With a glitch of jealousy he didn't felt since Solona, he sighs loudly and turns to face the other room. Leaving his boots outside, he strips himself from the dirty clothes, entering the room naked and with the bag on his shoulder. Hanging it from a hanger near the door, he rummages inside until he finds the toiletry bag. A couple of rock tubs take up half of the room. The rest of the chamber has a stone stool, the floor around it had a system for draining the water, aimed to wash yourself before entering the tub. Moving to one of the tubs, Cullen puts the stopper on it and starts to pour the water, leaving the runes engraved on it to warm the liquid while he washes his hair and body. Josie has gifted him with a set of scented oils and soaps, but he can't found the energy to use them. Instead, he recovers his usual one, a bar of soap made without fragrance, and uses it to wash the sweat and the elfroot poultice from his body. For his hair, he usually uses a recipe from his mother, but today he wanted to feel freer and decided to use one of the shampoos that Cassandra always wants for him to use. The perfume is sweet but not overwhelming and dissipates easily when he rinses it with clear water. For when he is utterly clean, the water is so hot that tints his skin with a soft pink tone. He almost moans when his full body is submerged in the water. The heat of it, together with the feeling of floating inside of the tub, adding a new layer to his relaxation. He let his mind wander, trying to remember when was the last time he felt this relaxed and this nervous at the same time. His body is in a different state than his mind. He goes over his conversation with Max, and then the rest of the warnings, trying to imagine what he is hiding. They knew his name, his family, his personal history… Maker, he had fought at his side, they have survived Haven, Adamant and the Winter Palace. He knows that man. He knows what silly comments make him smile, his favourite meal and the poison he favoured. He knows that he enjoys taking care of his own armour and weapons, just like him. As much as he thinks, he can't find a single thing about him that will make him doubt about what he feels. 

 

Some time later, when the water is starting to create some wrinkles in his fingertips, Cullen can listen the door of the other bathroom opening, and the chime of Dorian’s laugh echoing in the cave-like space. Under it, a softer version of Max's voice is chastising him. They stop almost immediately, and Cullen imagines that they have seen his boots near his door. Soft steps closed the distance to it, followed by a soft knock. “Commander, are you here? And more important, are you naked?” Dorian's voice wears the humour like a tie, embellishing it. With a grunt, Cullen starts to rise from the tub, having barely the time to recover the towel and covering his manhood before Dorian opens the door and steps inside. With a heated look, Dorian let his gaze roam over the wet body in front of him. “Venhedis, it must be my lucky day!”

 

A blushing Max appears behind him, wrapping an arm around Dorian's waist and forcing him to leave the bathroom. “Sorry, Commander. He moved faster than I thought possible. We will let you finish your bath in peace. Come to my quarters when you want, I will be waiting for you there.” He is using enough force to raise Dorian from the ground, and with Max being a head shorter than him, it was pretty impressive. 

 

The mage is using the last moments to memorise the Commander’s body without any trace of guilty. Before the door closes, he winks to him, “Come to me if your conversation didn't go as planned. I'll take you gladly, Commander!”

 

When the door closes, he can hear the rap on the head that Max gives Dorian, followed by the mage swearing and something that sounded like ‘worth it’. With a soft smile on his face, Cullen leaves the tub, drying himself with the towel. Using the same towel, he wipes his hair with quick movements, using his fingers to undo the knots that the drying had caused. Leaving it on the floor near the door, he picks up the clean underwear and breeches from the bag, putting it on before picking the toiletry bag and moving to the mirror on the wall. He knolls the shaving items on the counter before turning to fill the basin with clear water. He only shaves a couple of times a week, not having the time to spare in frivolities like this, but tonight… tonight he wants to be as perfect as possible. The routine is so ingrained in him that he works without even thinking. The little brush he uses to apply the foam was a present from Mia, years ago when his soul was still pure, filled with the desire to serve the Templars. Using it, he extends the foam over his lower face. The perfume of it almost overwhelming, another Orlesian product he didn't like but he has to use. Once all the skin is covered with the white soap, he puts aside the brush and picks up the razor, shaving efficiently every inch of his face. When he is satisfied with the result, he washes his face to rinse the foam's remains. Cleaning the items in clear water before storing them again, he uses the time he uses to clean the brush and the razor, to take a look at his hair. At last, he decided to let it free, not applying the wax he usually uses to tame his curls. 

 

Once he is ready, he returns the toiletry bag to the backpack, putting on the tunic and moving around the bathroom, opening the stopper of the tub and emptying the basin. When the bathroom is ready for its next visitor, he opens the door and picks up the dirty clothes from the ground, storing them in the bag before putting on the boots. Stretching lazily for the last time, Cullen hangs the bag from his shoulder and leaves the room. Some scouts and soldiers are enjoying the bathroom area, and the ones who see him saluted him. He returns the gesture but dismisses their intentions to stand with a soft ‘at ease’ before opening the door and starting to climb the stairs. The sun is hiding behind the mountains, the courtyard already in the darkness, only softened by the light of the torches scattered around it. Like every night, the tavern is a focus for the inhabitants of Skyhold. People are moving in and out of it every minute, while the voice of the bard fills the background of the dozens of conversations inside. Climbing the stairs to his towers, he exchanges some 'good night' with the guards around the battlements before reaching his office. Without any care, he leaves the bag near the door. Taking a deep breath, he steps outside his office in the rotunda’s direction.

 

Solas’s office is empty for the night, even the crows upstairs are resting. Sadly for him, the main hall still has some of its perpetual fleas moving around the tables. He tries to ignore them, strolling as quickly and sure as possible to the door beside the throne. A chevalier and his master started to follow him, decided to stop his movement, but when they are about to reach him, Josephine appears between them. “Oh, Commander, glad you make it in time. Sorry for calling you at this hours. The Inquisitor wants to discuss some delicate matters with you. He awaits you on his quarters. Leliana and I will join you shortly.”

 

Stopping just to give him a half bow and a thanks, he continues walking, the sound of Josephine’s voice convincing the assailants to leave him be is like a push to his feet. He moves even quicker than before, and the guard at the door opened it without a single moment of doubt. Once he is trapped in between the main hall and his quarters, the butterflies in his stomach start to dance. Cullen takes a few minutes to breathe, trying to coax his body to relax. When he feels as ready as possible, he takes the last steps to the door, knocking on it. The Inquisitor’s voice reaches him clearly even through rock and wood. “Come in.”

 

Opening the door, Cullen enters and locks the door behind him, not wanting to be disturbed in the middle of the important revelation he is about to have. Climbing the stairs, he finds Max curled in front of the fire, smiling at him. “Hello again. At least this time I'm fully clothed, and we don't have a crazy Tevinter to deal with.”

 

Max giggles softly, signalling the chair beside him. “Yeah. Sorry about that, Dorian can be too much sometimes, but you know the old saying: kill him or let him be, and I'm not planning to kill my best friend.” Cullen sits, facing the fire. In the table in front of the other chair lays a tray full of delicacies. When Max sees him looking at it, he just stands and moves the side table between them. “Josie send this for us. Let's make a proper use of the gift. Wine?” A bottle or Antivan wine has appeared on his hand while he talks. When Cullen nods, he serves the ruby liquid in a couple of glasses, giving one to Cullen before sitting on the opposite chair and starting to nurse his drink. Taking a long gulp, he put it aside, returning his full attention to the Commander. “Have they pestered you? I know it's a delicate matter, but they can be like a mother hen.”

 

Cullen takes a sip himself, after warming the wine between his hands. “Not so much, don't worry. I got a letter from Leliana and got ambushed by Cassandra. Other than that, they let me alone. Our spymaster even cleared my schedule.”

 

When he moves his arm to reach the food on the tray, Max gasped softly. “I forgot about your arm, how are feeling?”

 

The Commander blushes, moving his free hand to scratch at his neck. “Well… I ended asking Solas for help.” As an answer to the silent question and the raised brow, Cullen just coughs nervously. “I wanted to give you my full attention tonight, and I can't do it with a wounded shoulder.”

 

Now is Max who scratches his head, the shaved side of it is a favourite spot of him. The hint of a tattoo can be seen from time to time when he cuts it short. “Glad to hear it.” After a couple of minutes, which they have filled the silence with food, Max swallows the piece of cheese in his mouth and turns to face Cullen with all his body. “Do you have any idea about what I'm about to tell you?”

 

Seeing that the moment of the dreaded conversation has come, Cullen leans back on the chair, wine glass on hand. “Not really. I tried to think about it, but can't find anything that can't make me run from you or can destroy the Inquisition as you suggested.”

 

Oh, that soft smile again, the one that makes Cullen heart to explode every time it is directed at him. “Then I'm sure I will surprise you. Let's see if it is a good one or not.”

 

Standing, Max moves closer to the fire, leaning on the wall and facing Cullen. Half of his face is covered in shadows, the bubbles of light of the candles didn't reach him. “Let's start from the beginning, shall we? The Trevelyan is the head family of a group of nobles on the Free Marches. We are related by blood with all the big branches of nobility, even to the Crown of Ferelden. But as in any dark tale sang by a bard, ours is a bloody history. One of those families decided that they want to control Ostwick, and the only way to fulfil this stupid dream was ending with our family first. I was born in the middle of this secret war. My parents didn't give the matter a lot of their attention, thinking that they have been trying for a couple of generations without any success. I had a twin, and we lived happily under my mum skirt until we had seven years. That summer, our parents send us to visit my grandparents in Hercinia. Everything went well. We have fun, toasted under the sun, played with the dogs and horses.” Giving him his back, he reaches inside his tunic to pick up a pendant, caressing it with his thumb while he resumes the tale. “As you can imagine, the summer didn't end well. On our way back to Ostwick, our caravan was attacked. The soldiers protecting us fought to the last breath, but the enemies are numerous and had chosen the place for the ambush smartly. They killed our nannies before piercing our bodies with a rapier. The man who did it not even look at us while doing it. We were left in the road to die." Max stops for a moment, taking a sad look to the pendant and caressing it with a finger. "I saw the life leaving my brother, feeling the same leaving me. I prayed softly, called for my parents, and for once, the Maker listened to me. One of my grandparent's worker was returning from the market and found us.” Sadness is flowing from him, and Cullen can't resist it anymore, standing and moving behind him, putting a supportive hand on his shoulder. Max looks at him over his shoulder, softly patting Cullen’s hand. “Well, as you can see, they made it in time to save me, but my family… we were destroyed. They have killed the heir, planned to kill all the children and gave a reason to the other families to take off Ostwick from us.” Turning to face him, Max leans completely against the wall, putting all the distance he can between them. “I'm sure you think that is not as bad, that I'm a survivor and I had to be proud of it. Don't worry. I am. But I didn't tell you the worse part yet. We were twins, yes, but I'm not the heir, what did this say to you?”

 

Cullen seems to ponder it, trying to find any reason besides the obvious. When nothing comes to his mind, Max closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. “He was Maximilian Trevelyan, sole heir of the family.” When the words sink in Cullen's mind, Max is already moving away from him, stopping in front of the balcony doors. “My name is Maxine Trevelyan.”

 

The pained gasp from Cullen tells her all the info she needs without having to turn and face him. Her shoulders sinks, her head lowers while she still fidgets with the pendant. Her voice softened, lowering the tone and talking in whispers. “And this is my dark secret, Commander. I was forced to live like a man to save my family position. When my brother was born, I thought that maybe then I will be free, but my father asked me to maintain the façade until the boy has grown enough. My journey to the Temple of Ashes was planned to be my last one as Max. We have planned it carefully. Max will die on the trip back to Ostwick, giving me the chance to live as myself, at last. I even got a bag full of clothes that my mother ordered for me and enough gold to live alone for a long time. But the Maker had other plans for me.” When no answer came to her words, Max closes her eyes, waiting for the sound of the door closing when he leaves the room, but instead of this, she feels a warm body pressing against her back while strong arms surround her. Her reaction surprises him when she grabs his wrist and moves his arms away, only to turn over her heels and wrap her arms around his waist. Sighing on his chest, she enjoyed the feeling of him returning the gesture, leaning his chin on her head. “I feared you would run away from me when you listen the true. I’m a freak, trapped in this costume, wearing my brother’s name and life.”

 

Moving slightly away from her and forcing her face up to lock their gazes, Cullen starts to caress her cheek with his thumb. “You are not a freak. You are a marvellous person, whichever skin you are wearing. Few people will make the sacrifice you did for the sake of your family, and instead of being bitter about it, you still are one of the gentlest persons I ever meet. How can I run from you when the only thing I want is to hold you and support you in every form I can?”

 

Her voice is gaining a softer side, when she can stop to pretend to be another person. “Thank you, Cullen. I wanted to tell you from the beginning but is not an easy thing to explain. Besides, I liked the way you looked at me, didn't want to lose it.” Leaning her forehead on his chest, she moves one of her hands to rest it on his pectoral. “I have been running from any romantic involvement since a young age. I had been pursued, of course, but only because of my name and the power laced with it.” His hand move from her back, running over it until he reaches her arm, and following it to her hand, interlacing their fingers and making a sweet smile creep on her face. “And even if someone seemed genuinely interested in me, I can let them know the truth. I'm a great pretender, but not a cruel person. But this madness started to put the doubt inside my mind. And Dorian didn't help. You know how he is.”

 

Cullen kisses her head, squeezing her fingers softly. “We will send him a bottle of good wine tomorrow. So, Maxine,” He can feel the shiver going down her body. “Do you want to dinner with me? I'm sure we will enjoy the meal better now that the dark cloud of the secret is not floating over our heads.”

 

Nodding against his chest, Max raises her head to look at him. “Just when I was starting to feel comfortable.”

 

They giggled together, before Cullen stepping back from her without letting her hand. “I'm sure we can think of a way to enjoy the delicacies that Josephine gathered for us while we get comfortable on the couch.” Max bores her gaze into the golden eyes of Cullen, her breath stopping for a moment while she ponders the question inside of her mind. When she didn't answer to him, he starts to feel nervous again, moving a hand to his neck, as he always does. “Or we can return to the chairs and eat in front of the fire.”

 

“No! Sorry, I got distracted. The couch sounds great, but--” She lowers her gaze to his boots. “Do you mind if I change my clothes?”

 

Cullen raises her chin, giving her a lopsided grin that melts her insides. “Go and do what you want, Maxine. I will move the tray to the couch and wait for you there.”

 

She wears her heart on her sleeve, and she knows it, but she can't hide the emotion on her face when he calls her ‘Maxine’. “It's been a long while since someone called me by my real name, Cullen. Thank you.” Moving away from him until their fingers got separated, she turns slightly while going to the room where she storages her clothes. “I'll try to make it quick.”

 

The Commander is already moving to the hearth, dismissing her words with a wave. “Take your time.”

 

While she is away, Cullen moves the tray to the table in front of the couch, moving the glasses and the bottle of wine next. Sitting on it, he decides to take off his boots, if they will be there for a while, he prefers to be as comfortable as possible. The silence is only broken by the crackle of the wood on the hearth and the muffled sounds of Max inside the dressing room. Cullen has enough time to think in what he discovered tonight. He has convinced himself that he was in love with the man, only to find out that, in fact, he was a she. Thinking about it, Cullen starts to see the pattern; how the Inquisitor never travelled without Dorian or Cassandra, always sharing a tent with them. How Josephine discards every marry proposition he receives, even forbidding the insistent suitors to visit the Keep, under the excuse of stress and fatigue from the missions. Why he never leaves his room without his leather armour. And why he had lean hips, long lashes, round lips and soft skin. The hints are there, but she is a really good pretender. He is so lost in the images of him in his mind that he didn't hear the door opening or the soft steps approaching the couch. When a soft cough makes him turn his face, he can't fight the mouth opened expression looking to the figure in front of him. She has changed her leather clothes for a crossed tunic. The dark colours only made the perfectness of her skin glow under the fire light. A sash encircles her waist, showing him the figure he didn't know she had. The curve of her breast is not big but drags his attention anyway. And when he can move even higher, he sees that she has moved her hair to cover the shaved side. Wearing those clothes and with her hair down, he can't believe that he ever takes her for a man. “Maker's breath, but you are beautiful.”

 

Max blushes deeply, fidgeting with the hem of the sleeves. “Dorian forces me to buy this on Val Royeaux. His exact words were ‘This will make Cullen look like a fish out of the water’, and he will be happy to know that he was utterly right.”

 

Recovering thanks to her comment quickly, he pats the space beside him. “Well, can't fight it. You look gorgeous out of the leathers.” When she sits with a smile on her face, he passes her the glass and raises his own to cheer. “For our impertinent friend and your overzealous keepers.” Their glasses clink, and they drink, eyes fixed in one another. Cullen lowers his glass and picks some food from the tray; something that looks like a small little pastry. The thing in question is filled with cream cheese, and the flavour mixed with the bouquet of the wine is almost perfect. He picks another and offers it to her, who takes it directly from his fingers. The Commander loses the ability to breathe for some moments after her lips touched his fingertips briefly. He can see her pupils dilate, and is sure that his will be worse if possible. She munches the food while diverting her gaze from him, and he knows that she is trying to calm herself, just like him, who has turned his attention to the wine. They finish the meal in silence, giving pieces of fruit, bread or pastries to one another, taking care of not touching anything besides the food, exchanging sweet smiles and caste touches. 

 

When his wine runs out, he puts down the glass, taking her hand between his. “Do you mind if we move to the balcony? I want to observe the sky with you.”

 

Leaving her glass on the table, she stands and smiles broadly, almost running to the bed, where she picks up a blanket and a couple of pillows. “Can you take the fur? We can use it to keep the cold away from our bodies.”

 

With a matching smile on his face, Cullen stands, moving to the bed and picking up the fur. She walks beside him to the northern balcony, opening the door for them. He puts the fur down, and she puts the pillows on it, giving him the blanket before returning inside and starting to blow up the candles. When Max returns to the exterior, Cullen is already laying on the fur, with an arm bent behind his head. She lays beside him, and when she didn’t close the distance to his body, he uses his free arm to slid her over him. With a giggle, she shuffles slightly until she finds the perfect position, a leg over his knees, a hand splashed on his chest and her head leaning on his shoulder. 

 

After some stargazing, Max turns to look at his face; he looks so relaxed and at ease. “If someone had told me that we would end like this after my confession, I will have called him crazy.”

 

Turning his attention to her, Cullen starts to draw little circles on her back and hips. “Have you expected for me to run away? Look at you with anger in my eyes?” When she didn’t answer him, he tightens the grip on her. “Let’s be clear here, Maxine. I developed some kind of feelings for Max, the warrior, the fighter, the good hearted leader, the funny companion and the perfect match for my training sessions. I fell for you even when I believe that you were a man, steeling myself to learn how to deal with those feelings. I saw you clutched to Dorian, kissing his cheek and taking his hand, something that sounded awfully like jealousy twisting my insides. And then today happened. First Dorian telling me about your pact, then our little accident when training, the conversation in my tower. I spent part of the day trying to think of something that will make me turn my back to you because all this secrecy must be something awful. Maybe you were married or had a secret life.” He uses his arm to raise her over his chest, elbows leaning on his pectorals. “But then, you explained your secret to me. And I fell even more for you. You have renounced to a normal life to protect your family and household, pretending to be what you aren’t for almost all your life. And when the world throws you in front of a raging bull like the Breach, you remain as kind hearted and willing to help as before.” Max hides her face between her hands, blushing deeply. “Besides, I found you beautiful as a man. I think you're breathtaking as a woman.”

 

Raising her head, she moves up until their faces are one in front of the other, their breath mixing. “I want to kiss you, but I never did it before. As sad as it sounds…”

 

Moving a hand to cup her face, Cullen smiles softly to her. “You have been a quick learner in anything we threw at you, and this will not be different. Just do what you feel good doing.”

 

Slipping an arm around Cullen’s neck, she closes her eyes and lowers her face, until their lips are touching. She feels him tilting his head to one side to give her better access, but besides moving one of his hands to the nape of her neck and the other to her lower back, he let her control the rhythm. After some soft kisses, he opens his lips slightly, and she takes the hint, taking his lower one between hers. He returns the gesture, and soon, the soft kisses turned into something more sloppy and hot. One of the times he puts her lip between his lips, the tip of his tongue brushed against it, and Max moaned into the kiss, trusting her own tongue inside, searching for his. For being her first kiss, she sure knows how to turn him into a puddle. When they break the kiss to catch their breaths, the pair of them is panting. She leans her forehead in his, kissing his nose playfully. “Maker, Cullen. How I survived all my life without this kind of feeling is beyond my understanding.”

 

Using a moment of distraction, when she closes her eyes to catch her breath, he fixes his arm around her and turns them until she is laying on the fur and he is hovering her. “Glad you enjoyed your first kiss. And if the Maker lets me, I plan to be your first and your last, Maxine.”

 

She gasps, heart bouncing on her chest. The heat in her insides is like molten lava, threatening to burn her alive from the inside if she didn’t put an end to it. “Holy Andraste!” She tries to recover her breathing, taking long and deep intakes. When her heart stops sounding like a crazy stallion, she puts her hands on his face, looking at his face with all the seriousness her next works required. “Cullen, please, take me. Make me feel like a woman.”

 

Max can feel the shivers running down the Commander, and he leans his forehead on hers. “I don’t think it is a good idea.”

 

Using her thumb, she traces his lower lip, in a soothing motion until he opens her eyes to look at her. “Cullen, I need you. I can wait if you don’t want to do it. But it will be so good to have some real images on my mind, instead of the imaginary ones I use to bring myself to ecstasy thinking of you every night.”  

 

With a grunt, he lowers his face until he can trap her mouth in his, kissing her with a passion he clearly has fought to control before. After a minute of hot kisses, Cullen slips his arms around her, sitting on his halves and taking her with him. Her shriek makes them giggle while he stands, carrying her body like she weighed nothing. Laying her over the bedsheets, he lays beside her after removing his tunic, letting it fall on the floor and feeling her heated gaze like a caress. “You will be the death of me, my love.” A soft whimper is her only answer, eyes filled with passion and love. Before he can join her on the bed, she opens the closing of the tunic, letting the material pool on her sides and discovering to him the black underwear below it. She is so lost in the memory of his words that she didn’t felt his hands until his fingertips are caressing her abs. He is devouring her with his eyes, fingers ghosting over her tummy and between her breast, making her moan softly. “We don’t need to rush things. I’m not going anywhere. I will be here,” He lays beside her, leaning on his forearm, and plants a kiss on her jaw, “Tonight, tomorrow, the day after tomorrow, for as long as you want me.” His kisses have been trailing a road from her jaw to her collarbone, thumbs caressing the underside of her breasts slightly. He stops just there, catching his breath. “Maker, you are so perfect it hurts, Max. I can feel your muscles below my fingers. I know the kind of strength you have, but your skin-- your skin is like silk. You smell like something sweet, like home. I know how an addiction tastes, and you are starting to grow on me. But yours is a poison I’m willing to take.”

 

Max growls, hard and low, moving to raise his head and giving her the chance to kiss him until they need to stop for air. “Andraste’s tits! Did you know what your voice did to me? Shit, Dorian and I had talked about it, joked about if I will come only hearing you whispering in my ear. And I can assure you I’m very close to having to pay him a sovereign.”

 

Her words permeated inside his lusty brain, and he can’t stop the grin showing on his face. Leaning down, he kisses the crook of her neck, biting and sucking until he leaves a dark bruise just between the neck and the shoulder. “As much as I like your idea, and I promise you, we will confirm it soon enough, I want to use my mouth for other things.” Lowering, even more, he paints little circles between her breasts with the tip of his tongue, her shiverings only adding to the feeling. Moving a hand, he cups her left breast. The mount has the perfect size for his hand, the skin on it soft as nothing he ever touched. The telltale marks of her bindings painted them, but it didn’t lessen their beauty. Stopping himself before he attacks it, he leans his weight on his right arm, looking intently into her clouded eyes. “Are you sure that this is what you want? As I said, we don’t need to rush anything.”

 

Leaning on her forearms, she moves closer to him, until she can kiss his jaw. “Is not rushing, is fulfilling something that I dreamed of for months. Please, Cullen.”

 

The hand he had been using to tease her tit, moves to catch her back, crushing her against his body while he catches her mouth again. Tongues battle midair when he starts to lower her back to the bed, his hand returning to its original spot. His mouth left her lips to change its focus, painting a trail of kisses from her chin to her ear, biting and lapping, making her lost any ability to think or talk. Reaching the ear, he traces the lines of it with his tongue, making her moan and grasp his back even harder. Max can feel his grin when he starts to go down to her neck, planting wet kisses on every inch of skin he can reach. Cullen nips the pulse point there, making her moan when he intensifies the pressure of his teeth. Her hand move to sink her fingers in his curls, keeping him covering her neck and shoulder with love bites. He moves slightly down, following her collarbone, planting sweet open-mouthed kisses while he travels to her chest. With a whispered ‘Cullen’, she let her hands fall to the sheets, grasping them in her hands waiting for the overwhelming feeling she knows will come soon. And oh, by the Maker, Cullen provided. She was soon thrashing and moaning loudly while his tongue toyed with her nipples, biting the hardened bud and then lapping at it to soften the sting. 

 

Max arches her back, giving him better access to her body. “Please, Cullen, I need more.”

 

He growls against her skin, leaning his forehead on her shoulder. “Maker, Maxine, you are destroying my self-control.”

 

She wraps a leg around his waist, pushing him flat against her, the bulge of his hardened cock making her moan when it touches her tight. “I’m not gonna break. And if I can’t handle it, I know you will stop if I ask, so halt the foreplay and show me what I’ve been missing all these years.”

 

With a growl that makes her shiver, he closes the distance to her mouth and begins to ravish it, tongue demanding access inside. His hand starts to roam over her body, going down until he reaches her smalls. Max moans into the kiss when he puts his fingers over her overheated body. Some pressure and she is lost in the sensations. Feeling her reactions is making Cullen fight against the urge of ripping the smalls and sink himself in her. Instead, he slides his hand below the smalls, groaning softly when he feels how wet she is. His calloused fingers are exploring her folds, making her moan louder with every caress. He captures some of her nectar and uses it to lubricate her clit, making her shudder at the overwhelming sensation. Breaking the kiss, he raises his upper body from her, wanting to see her face when he did what has planned to do. He waits until she opens her eyes to slip a finger inside of her. Her back arched, and when he starts to move the finger in and out, his name leaves her lips like a chant, mixed with some ‘Maker’ and ‘please’. He adds a second finger, her body happily welcoming him. Max is a total mess, her hair splashed on the pillows, tunic pooled around her body, sweat covering every inch of her skin. But the debauched look just adds more wood to his fire, and he starts to twist the fingers inside of her, searching for the secret place inside every woman. Cullen can feel when he finds it, her body trembling like a leaf while she moans below him. Cullen uses the burst of pleasure to add another finger, stretching her inner walls as much as he can with only his hand. Without stopping the onslaught, he starts to draw soft circles on her clit with his thumb, and that pressure pushes her over the cliff of pleasure. A string of moans mixed with his name leaves her, while he maintains the touch, stretching the moment for as long as he can. Her inner walls are still pulsing around his fingers when he takes them off, unlacing his trousers in a hurry and positioning himself between her legs. 

 

Max is breathless, hands gripping the sheets so hard that they will be ripped for sure when they end. Looking directly into his eyes, she takes a deep breath before releasing her right hand, the one unmarked, and extends it to him. “Please, make love to me.”

 

Closing his eyes for a moment, he uses some breathing exercises to coax himself to relax. He is already on the verge of coming. Max's voice and reactions enough to make him want to mark her skin with his seed. Taking himself in hand, he positioned the head of his cock at her entrance, the slick folds welcoming him. Using all his self-control, he starts to push inside, slowly. Her body is still trembling from the orgasm, but her inner walls are so tight it's almost painfull. “Maker, Max. You feel so good!”

 

Maxine's eyes are closed, mouth open in a silent gasp, she even has stopped breathing while he pushes inside her. The pain is there, yes. A sting on her lower body, a stretch she has never felt before. But the pleasure around it, Andraste’s tits, it was overwhelming. When he is fully settled in her, he lowers his body over hers, chest against chest, and she wraps her legs around his waist. He gives her enough time to get accustomed to his girth, and to calm himself too, his balls already ready to burst from the pleasure. They kiss, sweet soft touches of their lips, tongues just caressing one another. With a sigh, she breaks the kiss, closing her eyes when he rests his forehead on hers. “Cullen, I--”

 

The Commander kisses her nose before leaning his weight on his hands, caging her between his arms and body. “Shhh, I will take care of you.” He makes a slow circling movement with his hips, making the pair of them moan in unison. “Fuck. You are so perfect for me.”

 

When he moves away until just the tip of his cock remains inside, only to push back again in a swift movement, she swears loud enough to be heard in the battlements. With a smirk on his face, he repeats the motion, enjoying the sound of her voice and the trembling of her body. She uses her legs to stop the movement, opening her eyes to look at him. “Let me ride you.”

 

Kissing her again, he plants kisses on her chin and cheeks while he moves to her ear, whispering softly, “It can be painful. You will feel me even deeper if you ride me.”

 

Max gasp at his words, mind already thinking on the pleasure she will have when he impales her. “I want to feel every inch of you. Let me do it, please.”

 

With a low growl, he makes her lower her legs around his tights instead of his waist, and turns them, laying on his back with her on top. Maneuvering her legs, she raises them until she is straddling his hips. The feeling is the same for now, and she leans her hands on his chest and starts to lift. As soon as the angle changes, she closes her eyes, moaning loudly with every inch she goes up. She is on the verge of coming for when she is fully seated over his cock. One of her hands moves to rest on her belly, talking breathlessly to him. “Maker’s breath! I feel you here.” He moves slightly up, the tip of his cock press hard deep inside of her, and Max moans even louder. “Holly Andraste!” Leaning her weight on her hands, she starts to raise and low her body. Her core is welcoming him with every thrust they share. The rhythm begins to fail her, trembling legs incapable of maintaining the movement. Leaning back, she leans her hands on his thighs, moving her lower body in circles around him. Her inner walls constrict him, and sensing how close she is, he sits back, catching her between his arms and forcing her legs to wrap around him again. The new position makes his cock to push shamelessly against the secret spot inside of her, and Max let her head fall back, almost screaming his name when she came. The feeling of her coming apart in his hands, together with the breathy moans pushes him into the abyss, spilling his seed deep inside of her, whispering her name against her neck.

 

They remain like this for a couple of minutes, recovering their breaths in one another arms. Cullen is still buried deep inside of her, and Maker forgives him, is the holiest sensation he ever had. When their heartbeat runs at almost normal speed, he risks opening his eyes, finding her looking lovingly at him. Her hair is a mess, totally knotted, and some locks plastered against her sweaty skin, but he never saw her more beautiful before. He let his hand travel from her back to her shoulder, caressing her skin with the tips of his fingers, until they reach her face. He follows the shape of it, the sharp cheekbones, the defined chin, the regal nose, the soft lips… She smiles at him, “Thanks, Cullen. I never felt more alive than now.”

 

Making them lay on their sides, with her leg trapped below him, he starts to move his hands to her ass, grinning when she feels his cock hardening again. “Well, it was the first time, let's see if we can make it better.”

 

Her laugh gets lost in her moans when he moves them and pins her against the mattress, his hardened cock pumping in and out in a hard and steady pace. His body hard and sweaty under her questing hands. She tries to touch him everywhere, and he lets her, raising his body from hers to give her better access. Max's breathing starts to come in short again, pleasure building again inside of her. How he can push her to this limits in mere minutes is something she didn’t understand, but is more than ready to study it, thoughtfully. Feeling her body starts to tremble, he moves a hand to her right leg, caressing it for a while until he fixes his gaze on hers. “Do you want to feel me even more?” 

 

“Maker, yes!”

 

He lowers again, kissing her swollen lips with passion, biting and lapping her lower lip. The hand on her leg move down until its fixed under the knee. Using soft pressure, he starts to move the leg up, the new angle of her hips making her gasp, breaking the kiss. He knew how flexible she is, and forces the leg even higher, until it rest flat against her chest, moving his other hand to raise the other leg. She moans loudly, a string of curses mixed with his name leaving her with every thrust. Feeling his own end nearing at high speed, he kneels, hugging her legs and making her knees rest on his shoulders, forcing her hips to raise from the bed. The rhythm changes to a fast and harder one then, her arms resting on her sides, grasping a handful of sheets on her closed fist, while she screams her pleasures into the night. Easing his grip on her legs, he moves one of them to circle his chest, giving him access to her clit. He gathers some fluid from their point of union and starts to draw soft circles over her sensible bund, making her tremble. “Come for me, love, let me feel you, tearing apart around me.” His broken words were the final push she needed to fall. A breathy ‘Cullen’ the only word he can understand between her gasp and moans. He follows suit soon enough, her walls milking him to a second orgasm in less time than planned. 

 

As soon as their bodies calm enough, he pulls off, smiling softly at her whimper and pout, helping her to lay more comfortably on the bed. Stepping off of it, he moves to her bathroom, wetting a cloth and picking up a towel before returning to the bed. He uses the wet cloth to clean her sweaty skin, before moving to her inner thighs. He chuckles when she whimpers at the coldness, but maintains the cloth there, easing any possible soreness with the cold and cleaning away the rest of their lovemaking. When she is clean enough, he uses the towel to dry her before moving back to the bathroom, doing a quick job with himself before returning to the bed and lying beside her.

 

She moves instantly to wrap herself around him, interlacing their legs and leaning her head on his shoulder. They fit so perfectly that it feels strange. With a contented sigh, she turns her face to kiss his chest, leaning on her chin to look at him. “Thank you, Cullen. A girl can’t ask for a better first time.”

 

Cullen raises her body until he can kiss her properly, planting soft kisses while they move away. “Happy to help. You can use me whenever you want, milady.”

 

She lowers her forehead against his shoulder, talking in soft whispers. “I know it will be difficult for you, but--” she takes a deep breath, closing her hand into a fist over his chest. “Do you think you can love me back? Because-- well, I’ve been in love with you since Haven. Can’t deny it to myself anymore. I want the full package. I want your body, Maker, I wanted it before I know how good it will feel used against me this way. But I want your mind, I want your company, your soft laugh, your counsel and words. I want to spend my free time talking with you, playing chess, training, dancing around our Orlesians guest. I want it all, Cullen.”

 

His strong arms forced her to lay entirely on him, straddling him. He cups her face in his hands, kissing the top of her nose before smiling to her. “And I will give you my life, my body, my mind, my heart. Whatever you want from me, for as long as you want me, will be yours.”

 

Max smile is so bright that melts his heart. She raises her body, leaning in her forearms against his chest. “Then, Cullen Stanton Rutherford, you will be stuck with me for a veeery long time!” Giving him a quick kiss, she leans again on his shoulder, planting soft kisses on his neck. “Now I have another good reason to stop Corypheus. I have a life with you waiting for me after this madness. Max will die in the final battle, and Maxine will be free to live a full life with you.” Shaking her head, she hides even more in the crock of his neck. “Shit, sorry Cullen. I’m already planning your life, and we have only shared a bed one night. Don’t mind this strange and repressed girl.”

 

With a chuckle, he turns his face to kiss her forehead. “I’m not complaining. I will be more than happy to show Maxine the beauty of Thedas when all this nightmare has ended.”

 

They kiss again, soft and lovingly, their lips and tongues telling one another what they are afraid to say aloud. The Fade starts to call them, and just before Max closes her eyes for the night, the Commander laughs softly. “Maker’s breath, the girls are going to kill me tomorrow.”

 

She joins him, chuckling softly while thinking on the overprotective Cassandra wanting to know all the details, blushing in the hot parts and loving the lovely words. “Don’t worry. They will have work enough silencing the rumours about the sounds that the guards have listened tonight.”

 

Laughing together, they welcome the Fade in one another arms, the silly smiles on their faces plastered there for the rest of the night. Time will see how the future will treat them, but for now, they were the happier persons in all Thedas.

**Author's Note:**

> Surprise? XDDDDD
> 
> Let me know what you think. I got this idea lurking inside my brain since I started playing DAI the first time and talked with Krem (OMG Krem *___*)


End file.
